Now and Forever
by Aeanagwen
Summary: A What If fic involving episode 40 and the death of one of the Seiryuu seishi--namely, what if it didn't happen?
1. Chapter 1

NF1 This isn't so much an Alternate Universe as it is a What If? Namely, what if Amiboshi, being the pacifist that everyone figures him for, had lived up to the title and tried to stop his brother from killing Tomo? This and Kousetsu are my personal favorites of my FY fanfics. This is also my longest of my FY stories (discounting my Genbu fic, which will also be posted eventually). 

Warnings: Tomo is gay and in love with Nakago, therefore there will be some unrequited love interest going. Also, I subscribe to the theories that Tomo's past is a violent, trauma-filled mess. Therefore his memories will include abandonment, abuse, violence, and child rape. You have been warned. This is not a Happy Fic. 

Translations/Notes   
--------   
yamete-stop   
Aniki-elder brother   
Shunkaku-Suboshi's real name 

  


Now and Forever 

It's time for the torture to end. Now die." 

Amiboshi looked up, barely able to see through the red haze of pain and blood before his eyes. Tomo's smirking face stared back, twisted with mockery. 

_It's an illusion!_ Amiboshi thought desperately. _Illusion!_ Illusion! 

_I'm going to die._

He shut his eyes, cringing--but the fatal blow never came. Amiboshi stared in shock as the razor feathers of the ryuuseisui exploded through Tomo's chest. 

Shock spasmed across the illusionist's face as his right hand, trembling violently, clenched over the wound. He turned slowly, blood spilling out of his mouth. 

"Suboshi." His lips formed the breathless word. "Y--You..." 

Amiboshi followed his gaze to see his younger brother, right arm stretched out in a commanding gesture. 

"Don't you dare touch my brother," the boy growled. His arm pulled back and around, his fist clenching. 

_He--He's going to kill him! No! _No! 

"No!" he shouted, wrenching to his feet. "Suboshi! Shunkaku! Yamete! _Yamete!_" 

Two pairs of shocked eyes turned to him. Suboshi's arm fell in amazement. "Aniki?" he asked. 

Tomo's mouth moved, but no sound emerged. His eyes, the pupils dilated, rolled back into his head as he and Amiboshi crumpled to the ground. 

"Aniki!" Suboshi cried, his fellow seishi forgotten as he rushed to his brother's side. 

------------------- 

Sorry for the inopportune break. I am lazy, and I don't WANT to write the scene that should be here. It's been done before, and this is a Tomo-focused story, not a twins-focus story. I know it's extremely lazy of me. I don't care. For those who have not seen the episode (if you have, you can skip this) and are reading this anyway, what ensues is Amiboshi asking Suboshi stay with him. Suboshi takes the drug that would give him amnesia, enabling him to forget about Yui and the Seiryuu seishi, but he then bends down and kisses his brother, spitting the drug back into Amiboshi's own mouth. As Amiboshi passes out, Suboshi says that he can't leave Yui. 

He goes to grab Miaka and rape her as he believes Yui has been raped. He is prevented from doing this by a miraculously alive Tamahome and the other Suzaku seishi, who have escaped from Tomo's illusion. Suboshi picks up his unconscious brother and runs off, and Miaka prevents her seishi from giving chase. Enter Subaru and Tokaki, an elderly married couple who saved Tama. Tokaki was the guy who taught Tamahome martial arts. The Suzaku seishi go stay with them for a while. Okay, on with the story. 

---------------------- 

Mitsukake, seeing his miko's safety assured, turned, a sense tugging at the bottom of his spine. His eyes fixed the Seiryuu seishi who lay face-down on the ground, his dark hair strewn around him, shards of a headdress glinting in the blood pooling around him. 

_He's alive._

Instantly, the healer rushed to Tomo's side, kneeling down and turning him over carefully as he called forth his power. 

_A gut wound. One lung filled with blood. He's barely breathing, and I feel almost no heartbeat. If I don't act fast, he will die. Can't let that happen._

Without thought for caution, he jerked the ryuuseisui out of the younger man's chest, tossing them aside with the disgust of a man born to bring life, not cause death. Clamping his left hand over the chest wound, Mitsukake clenched his teeth and sent forth his ki. It was dangerously low, after the time spent in the desert, but he had to act! If he failed, the man would perish. 

"Oi!" Tasuki cried, stepping over to an oblivious Mitsukake. "What're ya doin' tryin' ta heal him?!" Angered confusion filled the bandit's brown-gold eyes. "He's Seiryuu shichiseishi!" 

A hand clamped down on his shoulder. He turned, heated words on his lips. 

Tamahome's master stared at him grimly. "Would you become a murderer?" he asked grimly. 

"What the hell are you talkin' about?" Tasuki spat. "He's one of them!" 

"It's one thing to kill a man in battle," the old man responded, his eyes firm and unforgiving, boring steadily into Tasuki's mind. "It's quite another to have the chance to save him, and choose to let him die. That's called murder." 

Tasuki opened his mouth to protest again, and the man's fingers tightened, squeezing. The Suzaku seishi yelped as his limbs froze. 

"Your companion has the power to save that man's life. If you stop him, you condemn a human being to a calculated, honorless death. I ask again--would you become a murderer?" 

His fingers flexed once more, and the blood spilled back into Tasuki's body. He glared at the old man. 

"Tasuki," came a soft voice from the side. The bandit looked across into Miaka's moss-green eyes. "We can't just let him die," the Suzaku no miko whispered. "Even if he did try to kill us. We're different. We can't kill him that way." 

"It doesn't matter anyway," a new voice said. The group looked over at the old woman approaching them. She stopped at her husband's side, pointing at Mitsukake. 

The healer stood, Tomo held gently in his arms. The Suzaku seishi's face was pale and haggard; he stumbled slightly. The old man shook his head ruefully and walked over. "Let me take him," he instructed, holding out his arms. 

Mitsukake nodded slowly. "Be careful..." he murmured. "He's not healed--completely yet... I don't have enough energy..." 

Careful not to jostle the unconscious seishi, Tamahome's master took Tomo and turned. "Come on," he said, nodding his head off towards the east. "You can stay with us." 

-------------------- 

Not the most interesting of beginnings, I'm afraid, but it does get better once you get into the real meat of the story, rather than this little set-up stage. As for why Tomo survived... First off, there's no evidence that he died _instantly _in the series--hence Tomo death-fics. However, in this case I justify it by saying that the only wound Tomo sustained from Suboshi was the first strike through his body. The lack of the others (the ones that whip and just generally wreck his outfit and inflict quite a few more, but less-serious wounds) is what kept Tomo alive long enough to be noticed by Mitsukake. Don't buy it? Oh, well, it's my premise and my story, so deal with it. On to chapter two. 


	2. Chapter 2

NF2 Okay, now we get to the _interesting _stuff. A Tomo without makeup is a Tomo without a mask, and a Tomo without a mask makes for angst, angst, and more angst. 

Chapter 2 

Mitsukake, ever the devoted healer, refused to sleep until Tomo's health was assured. He sat at the side of the wounded Seiryuu seishi, steadily cleaning away the makeup that covered the man's face. 

_Why does he wear this?_ the Suzaku seishi wondered. _Some kind of trauma, most likely. But what kind? There's no way of knowing until he wakes up._

His gaze skimmed over the pale skin of his patient's face. _You couldn't tell with the face paint,_ he realized, _but he's younger than I am. And handsome. What could have scarred him so deeply?_

As if in answer, Tomo's eyelids flickered. He moaned low in his throat, twitching restlessly. His face twisted as his lips parted, his eyes blinking slowly as they opened. 

- 

_I'm--alive... How? Wha--Suboshi? Ryuuseisui--through my chest--how did I survive? Nakago-sama?_

He opened his eyes and stared straight into the grey-blue gaze of the Suzaku seishi Mitsukake. 

_Suzaku shichi-- _He jerked to the side, then cried out sharply as pain flashed through him, agonizing and bright. Gasping hoarsely, he fell back to the pallet, his chest heaving. Each breath sent tearing fire through his side and chest. Glaring balefully up at the older man, who stared at him in silence, he swallowed, his throat scratchy and dry. Pain tore at him again and he closed his eyes, his lips moving in a breathless curse as helpless, excruciated tears leaked back into his hair. 

"I'm not going to hurt you," a deep voice said above him. "Don't move. It will only things worse. Those wounds haven't closed yet." 

Tomo opened his eyes again, his teeth clenched around the bitter laugh that coiled within him. He stared searchingly into the Suzaku seishi's eyes. Nothing greeted him but concern and mild rebuke. 

He turned his head away, glowering at the far wall and biting back another cry as fresh pain struck at him. _I can't do anything. My strength is gone. They can do whatever they want to me, and there's nothing I can do about it._ Rage burned in his stomach, throbbing in his heart, screaming indignity at his state. 

"I'm sorry," the man next to him said quietly. "I didn't have enough power to heal you completely. I was exhausted, and you were severely wounded. It will be another day, at least." 

Tomo refused to answer him. _Once you have healed me, fool,_ he thought viciously, _you'll be the first I destroy._

A rag, cold and dripping wet, was placed by strong, sure hands over his forehead. Startled, he looked back--and realized for the first time that his makeup was gone. 

Panic spilled through him, quickening his heartbeat as sweat broke out all over his prone body. He clenched his hands, struggling to return his expression to its normal blank impassivity. But he was drained, his last defense wiped clean away, and he could see in Mitsukake's eyes that every second of that brief attack of shock and fear had been clearly seen and recognized. 

The older man looked down at him, surprised. "What's wrong?" he asked softly, leaning down. "Does it hurt?" 

Cursing himself, Tomo shut his eyes tightly and schooled his face to cool disdain. "I'm _fine,_" he whispered venomously, opening his eyes and fixing them on the healer's face. 

Staring at him in complete disregard of the poisonous hatred in Tomo's gaze, Mitsukake straightened the blankets around the Seiryuu seishi's body. 

"Try to get some sleep," he said, leaning back. "If you need anything, tell me." He shifted positions slightly, tipping his head to rest against the wall, and shut his eyes. "And don't move around so much. You'll make those wounds worse." 

Tomo stared at him, trying to contain his surprise. _He's just--going to sleep? With me lying right here?_

Sardonic humor sparked in his mind. _Why not? I'm helpless right now. Seiryuu..._

He snarled up at the ceiling, choking back a moan as pain lanced through him. _Lay still,_ he thought firmly, forcing himself to relax. _Lay _still_! The sooner you heal, the sooner you can get back to--_

He broke that thought off before it could start, staring up at the cracked whitewash. Pain muddled his thoughts, and, despite his best efforts to rein them in, they began to wander, bearing him helplessly along with them. 

_Helpless. Again. I hate that. I hate not being able to act. Not being in control. Left at the whims of another. I try so hard to escape it. But I never can. Can't do anything to escape it._

Blue eyes, bright and sharp. They saw him, and they knew him, instantly and without hope of a mistake. 

_I love him. I'd do anything for him, and we both know it. He doesn't care. He never will..._

He bit his lip, fighting back tears. _No,_ his heart cried. _Stop thinking about this! You know where this is headed!_ But he couldn't stop; the pain overwhelmed him. 

_No one ever cared. Ever! Always alone. Always being hurt. Always hurt..._

The cry of a young boy echoed in his memory, and the harsh sound of fabric tearing. 

_Stop thinking about it! Stop _thinking _about it!_ He twisted his head, trying to shake loose the sounds, but the movement only fired new agony through his body. With a choked whimper, he fell limp again. 

_Please... Please, stop..._

_Always needed the makeup to protect you. You're so weak. Weak little fool._

_Please..._

_And now that it's gone, you can't even control your own thoughts. You're pathetic. No one could ever love a person like you._

_Stop..._

_You don't deserve to be loved. The only reason you're still alive is because you're Seiryuu shichiseishi. You shouldn't even be that. Why should you be one of the heroes of legend? You, a frightened little boy who isn't even brave enough to face the world without a mask?_

_No... Stop it, please!_

He couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and they streamed out of closed eyes in salty rivers through the strands of his hair and down his neck. 

_Please..._   
__

- 

"You're Byakko shichiseishi?" Chiriko asked. 

The old woman who walked beside him nodded, smiling. "My shichiseishi name is Subaru, and my husband is Tokaki." 

"What is your power, then?" the boy asked curiously, his thirst for knowledge kicking in. 

The Byakko seishi considered for a moment, searching for the right words. "I--manipulate time," she said finally, carefully. "That's how we healed Tamahome. I brought his body back to the state it was in the day before he fell from the cliff." 

Chiriko absorbed the explanation, looking thoughtful. "So--you could easily heal Tomo-san, couldn't you?" 

She looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, I could. Do you know why I haven't?" 

He responded instantly. "You and the others are still worried that he'll try to fight us if he gets all of his power back." 

She nodded as they neared the room where Tomo lay. "Yes. We--" 

She stopped as Chiriko halted suddenly, tilting his head. "Do you hear that?" he murmured. 

She listened as well, and her aged hearing caught the edges of the sound. 

"Someone's--crying," the young Suzaku seishi said, turning to look up at her. 

She stared down the hallway. "It's coming from his room," she answered in an equally soft voice. 

The two crept down the hall and cautiously peered into the room. Subaru's eyes widened; Chiriko gave a small gasp. 

Tomo lay on the bed, his eyes closed, tears staining his face, which was twisted by grief and pain. He was folded into a tight ball, the blankets tangled around him, his body wracked with choked weeping. Coughing whimpers of anguish wrenched forth from his throat. The heavy sounds stabbed into Chiriko's ears and he rushed into the room as Subaru turned to wake Mitsukake. 

Kneeling down, he grasped one of the Seiryuu seishi's arms and shook it gently. 

"Tomo-san? Tomo-san!" 

The older man's eyes flew open, and he stared at the boy in raw, unmasked pain and confusion. Then, he convulsed again, a cry of agony ripped out of his throat. He wrapped his arms around the half-healed wounds in his chest, looking away. "Go away," he whispered harshly. "Go away!" 

Mitsukake, now fully awake, was instantly at Tomo's side. "Calm down," he said, his eyes dark and anxious. "Calm down! You're going to kill yourself this way!" 

He grabbed one of the Seiryuu seishi's shoulders and pulled it back. "Tomo! Lay down! You have to let me look at those wounds!" 

The younger man's breathing was fast and shallow. "It hurts," he moaned, wrenching away and curling up again, desperate tears sliding down his face. "It _hurts!_" 

"I know it hurts, Tomo, but you have to lie still!" 

Chiriko had pulled back, his hands rising to his face as he stared at the illusionist. "Tomo-san!" he gasped. "Please, be still!" 

But the Seiryuu seishi was beyond hearing. 

His hands flying, Mitsukake plucked a small vial of medicine from the floor near him. Leaning over, he firmly pulled Tomo's head back, staring into the man's wild golden eyes. 

"Drink this, Tomo," he instructed. "It will help." 

Gasping, Tomo opened his mouth. With skillful efficiency, Mitsukake poured it down. Swallowing convulsively, the younger man stiffened. His lips moved for a moment, then he fell limp, his eyes sliding shut. His shuddering breaths continued for a moment, then subsided to a fine shivering. 

Mitsukake sighed deeply, his eyes worried. "There's more to this than the physical wounds," he said without preamble as he began to gently straighten Tomo's limbs, untangling the blankets and pushing them slightly aside. 

Subaru nodded solemnly. "Something hurt him deeply," she replied in a hushed voice. 

"We can't help him unless we find out what happened," the healer said, sponging at the blood spilling over Tomo's pale chest. 

Chiriko sat quietly in one corner, his legs hugged to his chest. He'd learned long ago that he thought best if he was silent and patient, letting his Suzaku-given gift do its work in peace. He watched as Mitsukake and Subaru held their soft discussion, the man unrolling a fresh bandage and wrapping it over the wounds. 

When he'd finished, the healer glanced up at Chiriko. 

The boy nodded silently, tilting his head towards the door. Mitsukake hesitated, then left silently, Subaru trailing behind him. 

The Suzaku seishi watched Tomo's face as the Seiryuu seishi slept. The man whispered something. Leaning in close, Chiriko caught the airy breath of the word. 

_Nakago._

It wasn't the only thing he said in the hours that followed, as evening turned into night. 

_Yamete._

_Hanase._

_Onegai._

_Kaa-san._

_Kaete kudasai._

By the time morning came, Chiriko had pieced together most the events of Tomo's childhood. 

------------------- 

Translation Guide   
---   
yamete--stop   
hanase--let go   
onegai--please   
kaa-san--mother   
kaete kudasai--come back 


	3. Chapter 3

Now and Forever Thank you people who have given me feedback so far. ^-^ Love you bunches. No need to push me to finish, though--this story has been finished for quite some time. I'm not sure yet how many chapters it will fall into, but what you SHOULD be telling me to do is post regularly. I can get lazy about that. Anyway, here's chapter three, complete with vague spoilers for a not-very-important incident in episode 42. 

"Wo ai ni," is Chinese for "I love you." You hear Shampoo tell Ranma this, and sometimes Tamahome will say it (for no apparent reason) rather than the Japanese "Aishiteru." 

Chapter Three 

The world reformed in hazy snatches of sound and thought. 

_Birds singing_

_Seiryuu..._

_Low hum of a nearby marketplace_

_I hurt--all over..._

_Soft breathing_

_Where am I?_

_Clothes rustling_

_Who's there?_

Tomo opened his eyes slowly, squinting fuzzily as the world blurred into focus. Light illuminated the room he lay in--it was midday or better. 

He turned his head slightly, wincing as pain echoed down his back. It hurt--but not so much as the burning agony of last night.. 

Sitting before him was a boy. It took Tomo a moment to place him. 

_Suzaku shichiseishi Chiriko._

The child's cinnamon hair was rumpled slightly, as though he hadn't slept. His minty green eyes seemed too large in his face, thin and burned by harsh winds and exposure. He sat with his elbows on his knees, his chin cupped in his hands as he stared at Tomo with thoughtful consideration. 

Something like guilt stung at the Seiryuu seishi. 

He rebuked himself for it--or started to. But the words fell flat. 

_What happened--last time... Seiryuu, what I did... I--_cried_... in front of _them?! 

"I hope you're feeling better," Chiriko said, dropping one arm across his knees. 

Tomo looked away in silence, trying to contain the emotions crashing in his heart. 

_I learned not to cry. Crying never helps anything. No one ever hears._

"Something happened to you," came the light treble. 

The man turned back, his eyes widening in shock. 

Chiriko stared at him, his eyes clear and bright as he finished, "Didn't it?" 

_He--he--how _dare_ he?! _His hands clenching into fists, he narrowed his eyes and focused his will on the floor before Chiriko's feet. _He'll pay for that._

Fleeting memories flickered at the back of his mind, and he ruthlessly shoved them back. A tiny shoot of thorny green crept through the floorboards. 

Chiriko stared at it, unmoving. "It's an illusion, isn't it?" he asked calmly, further heightening Tomo's anger. "One of your illusions." 

_He's not afraid of me, _a part of his mind realized. Confusion was eclipsed by outrage and the affirmation, _He will be._

The boy sighed. "I'm sure you know that, if anything happens to me, my friends will come. You can't fight us, not all of us." 

The Seiryuu seishi's eyes narrowed. "I did once," he choked, ignoring the red pain that flared down his spine. 

Chiriko looked at him, sad-eyed. Reaching down, he brushed his fingertips through the vine. "You can't now," he said in the face of Tomo's shock. "You're not strong enough. Anyway, what good would it do you?" 

Tomo swallowed back burning pride. The child was right, galling as the admission was. Killing the boy, even if he could summon the strength to do so, would be pointless. Even the tiny illusion of the vine had exhausted him, and without the shin to focus and amplify his power, he hadn't even been able to keep it solid. A spark of shame fanned within him. 

"Hiding behind a mask isn't going to take the pain away, you know," Chiriko commented solemnly. 

_If I wear this, no one will know..._

A shudder convulsed the Seiryuu seishi. He bit his lip, turning away and trying to block out the words. 

"Everyone feels pain sometimes. It's a human emotion, and you're as human as any of us." 

_If no one gets close, then no one can hurt me..._

The voices of two children, overlapping and mingling and echoing in his mind. 

"People sometimes blame themselves for the bad things that happen to them. It wasn't your fault, Tomo-san." 

_Onegai, yamete! I'll be good, I promise! I'm sorry! I'll never be bad again!_

Tears burned hot beneath closed eyelids; his muscles clenched so tightly they trembled. 

_No one--no one was supposed to know... Ever! Ever again! I didn't want anyone to know!_

A tiny voice whispered in the depths of his heart, _If they knew, they'd hate me..._

"Get out..." 

"Tomo-san--" 

The Suzaku seishi had broken all of Tomo's walls with only his soft, pleading voice. The raw ache of it on his bleeding, vulnerable spirit felt like a violation. 

"Leave me alone!" he shouted, his voice cracking. "Just leave me alone!" 

He heard a soft sigh, then a whisper of cloth as Chiriko rose and departed. 

- 

With Miaka speaking to Hotohori, Chichiri took his leave. He wandered aimlessly down the path in the gardens, lost in thought. Something was off between Miaka and Tamahome, he could sense that much. If there wasn't, the two would have been together as if joined at the hip. As usual. But he'd found Miaka in the gardens, angry and tearful all at once. There was no time for division and arguments amongst the Suzaku seishi. Time was rapidly vanishing. Right now, matters stood at a stalemate, with Nakago slightly ahead due to his possession of the Genbu no Shinzaho. As if things hadn't been complicated enough with all of that, now there was a traumatized, hostile Seiryuu seishi to be dealt with. At least, the monk reflected ruefully, they knew where the Byakko no Shinzaho was located. Tokaki and Subaru had promised that they could retrieve it that evening. 

"Chichiri-san?" came a soft voice from behind him at his elbow. He turned, looking down. 

Chiriko stood before him, his light eyes darkened with worry. 

"Nani no da, Chiriko?" the man replied, knowing instinctively that whatever Chiriko wanted, it was important. 

"I-I've been talking to Tomo-san," the child said slowly. "How much has Mitsukake-san told you?" 

Chichiri considered. "That he is still hurt too badly to move around much, and that he has likely suffered from something serious in his past. That's all he knows no da." 

Chiriko nodded thoughtfully. "I..." He trailed off for a moment, looking torn between alternatives, then plunged ahead. "I think I know what happened to him." 

Solemn, Chichiri sat down beneath a tree, removing his mask. Something told him that what he was about to hear would not be pleasant. 

Following suit, Chiriko fiddled with his fingers for a long moment, staring at his hands. "Promise that you won't tell the others," he said finally. "He doesn't want anyone to know." 

"I promise no da, but--he told you?" Chichiri asked, startled, but Chiriko shook his head in a quick negative. 

"He was talking in his sleep last night," the boy explained, relating what he'd heard. "I think he was--was raped." 

Chichiri nodded slowly. "It would fit no da," he said carefully. "But are you sure? There are other things that could explain it." 

The younger seishi nodded. "Almost completely," he said in assurance. "I don't know what happened to his mother, whether she died, or left him, but that doesn't really matter. I think he somehow ended up with one of those opera troupes that pass through from time to time. That would have been made up of mostly men with no other options in life, people who couldn't keep a job, possibly escaped prisoners. With what I heard Tomo-san say--it makes the most sense." 

Chichiri stared down at Chiriko for a moment, discomfited by the logical way the boy spoke of subjects that someone his age should by no means know so much about. Shaking himself slightly, Chichiri nodded for him to continue. 

"I tried to talk to him," the younger seishi said, "but he only yelled at me and told me to get out." Chiriko looked down, a faint suggestion of tears in his large, minty eyes. "I _tried_," he whispered desperately, as though trying to convince his companion. Or possibly himself. 

Chichiri sighed. "I believe you, Chiriko," he said gently. "Demo, if what you think is true, you can't expect him to heal all in one day no da. Things don't work that way. Ask Mitsukake, or any doctor. They'll tell you that healing takes time na no da." 

Chiriko leaned up against him, shivering a bit with suppressed tears. Chichiri wrapped a gentle arm around him, his voice soft but firm. "Even if you convince him that what happened was not his fault, it would take years to completely rid him of the tendency to hang back, to distance himself from pain. He might not ever heal completely." 

Chiriko snuffled. "How?" he asked desperately. "How could someone do that to a child?" 

His good eye dark, Chichiri responded softly, "I don't know, Chiriko no da. I wish I did, but I don't." 

Wiping his eyes, Chiriko sat back up. "That's not all, Chichiri-san," he said resolutely. "I--I think that Tomo-san...He loves Nakago." 

His eyebrows shooting up in sharp surprise, Chichiri managed to keep his voice low. "What makes you think that, Chiriko?" 

"He--he kept calling out to Nakago in his sleep. Sometimes, it was like he was sad over him, and sometimes it was the same way he called to his mother--like he needs Nakago, for something. And--I think I heard him say once... 'Wo ai ni.'" 

Chichiri nodded wordlessly. _Gods,_ he thought, _the more we learn of the truth, the more convoluted our path becomes..._


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for the long delay. I'm afraid I get kind of lazy on multi-parter fics. But there's only one more part after this, so I'll try not to be so slow about it. 

Notes: Read these is you haven't seen or don't remember the episodes following Tomo's death. Xi-fang is the name of Subaru and Tokaki's adopted daughter. She's sent to hit on Tamahome, who tries to accept that he can't be with Miaka (yeah, it's another of THOSE things). Miaka catches them about to kiss, and runs off to the temple that she's been strictly warned against. 

Matte=wait 

------------------------ 

Mitsukake eased open the door to Tomo's room, a bowl of Xi-fang's soup in hand. Neither she nor Miaka were allowed anywhere near Tomo. Wounded or not, it was tempting fate to allow that. Tasuki and Tamahome had also been instructed to keep away, but for Tomo's sake rather than their own. Mitsukake didn't want the Seiryuu seishi's acid tongue antagonizing them and endangering his patient. 

Said patient lay on his bed, staring into the distance. He obviously hadn't heard Mitsukake enter. He'd been crying again, the healer noted with a pang. Faint tear tracks stained the illusionist's face; his dark hair clung to his neck in moist strands. 

Closing the door, Mitsukake said Tomo's name aloud. The younger man jerked to attention, surprise and fear spasming over his face. He had no skill with hiding his emotions, the Suzaku seishi had noticed, very little control over his face. The healer suspected it was related to the makeup he'd first seen Tomo wearing. 

"I brought lunch," he said, kneeling down. Tomo glared at him for a moment, then looked away again. 

"Starving yourself isn't going to help your situation," Mitsukake said in gentle remonstration. "If you hate our company so much, the quickest way to get out of it is to keep youself fed and rested." 

Tomo's eyes narrowed, his lips curling in a silent snarl. Something flashed in his eyes, then, changing his expression. Longing. Utter, agonized longing, harsh and primal in his eyes. They closed for a moment, squeezing tightly shut, as his fists clenched, trembling. Finally, he opened his eyes again, turning back to Mitsukake stiffly. 

"I'll feed myself," he whispered hoarsely, antipathy in his voice. The Suzaku seishi nodded silently, carefully extending one arm. 

Tomo flinched away. 

"You can't eat lying down," Mitsukake said wearily. "Either I help you sit up or I spoon feed you. Which would you prefer?" 

After another long, venemous glare, Tomo reluctantly allowed Mitsukake to wrap an arm around his back and support him. With a hand that trembled slightly, the illusionist grasped the spoon and slowly took a sip of the meal. He was more hungry than he let on, obviously, because very soon he'd let his control slip enough to disregard his enemy's presence and just eat. 

Which was exactly what Mitsukake wanted. Easing the Seiryuu seishi back down onto the bed, he silently pulled away the bandages over the wounds in Tomo's chest. The younger man stared stonily at the ceiling, his face marred by an occasional wince, his breath hitching once in an involuntary hiss of pain. 

The double injuries still burned a harsh, angry red on Tomo's chest, but at least the things had finally begun to close. There would be scars, unless Mitsukake or Subaru healed them, which was, at the moment, quite out of the question. With gentle hands, the healer spread on a cool salve, a part of his mind noting Tomo's unexpected flinch when Mitsukake touched his bare   
skin, the man's quicker breathing when he didn't pull instantly away. 

Finally, he re-wrapped the wounds in fresh, clean strips of fabric, standing up. "Don't try anything," he said firmly as he turned, heading for the door. "And Tomo..." 

The illusionist didn't turn around, but the older man knew he was listening. He didn't have much of a choice, after all. 

"We don't want to fight you. We never wanted to fight you. Too many people have been hurt already in this war. We don't want any more suffering." 

He left then, and didn't see as the tears began anew. 

- 

_Suffering... What do _they _know about suffering? They've never suffered. Not like _I've _suffered. Seiryuu... How could you? How could you let that happen to me?_

He felt his throat burning with unshed tears. His heart ached, crying out like a lost child. 

_I'm one of your chosen. Seiryuu shichiseishi! A child of the gods, all the legends say. What kind of father are you?! To let one of your children be hurt so. Damn you... Damn you!_

The image of the golden statue of Seiryuu in the shrine in the Kutou palace danced before his eyes, mocking and cruel. 

_Damn you!_

He wanted to cry out the words, shriek them to the uncaring heavens, but all that emerged was a broken whisper. 

"Damn you..." 

_We don't want to fight you._

The words of the Suzaku seishi drifted into his mind, and he gave a choked, bitter laugh. _Whether you wish to fight or not is meaningless. _We _fight. The shichiseishi of the god of war. We never had the choice. We've been fighting since we were born. Fighting for the right to live, climbing to the top over the bodies in our path. Damn all of you and your meaningless words of peace. They're all well and good for life in that pathetic country of Kounan--but in Kutou?_

He laughed again, harsh, sardonic. 

_You wouldn't have lasted a day in Kutou. None of you. Weaklings. You and your god of love._

His thoughts broke off there. He shut his eyes as, again, Nakago's face appeared before him, haunting and cold. 

_Love. It's meaningless. And yet I want it more than anything. I'm a fool. Nakago... You never let anything get in your way. Espescially not something as pathetic and futile as love. You're strong--and I don't deserve you._

_Don't deserve anyone._

He shook his head, but it didn't stop the stream of thoughts from attacking him yet again. 

_Captured by the enemy. Helpless. Nakago would likely kill me if I ever returned anyway. For failing him._

The scent of burned hair. The black sears over the lupine body. The consequences of failure, written in sable and ivory and deep, blood-red garnet in the snow. 

_But I'd go back to him anyway. Always. Fool that I am. I don't have a chance--never had a chance._

_Don't have a choice. Never had a choice._

_Damn it. Damn it all..._

Sweat laughing ripping hurting tears blood begging screaming dying... 

For once, he let the memories flood him with complete abandon, almost revelling in the old, familiar pain that washed over him in crashing waves of onyx and scarlet. 

_I survived that! _his heart cried defiantly. _I survived, and for what? To be laying here at my enemy's mercy, waiting on their whim? Deciding what to do with me? Hoping I'll turn on Nakago? Never! I will _never_ betray him! By all the gods, I'd _die_ first!_

_I'll get back to him again somehow. I'll fight for him once more, no matter what it takes! I swear it! Seiryuu, I _swear_ it!_

Lying under a foriegn roof, his mind clear and sharp, focused by bright pain and resolve, Ruo Chuin made his vow. 

_There will be no healing here,_ he thought with deadly calm. _If fighting and destroying innocents is what it takes to be near him, then so be it. I'll take what they give me and use it against them, and I won't regret it. Even if I'm condemned for it--it doesn't matter. I'll willingly go to Hell._

_I serve Nakago. Now, and forever._

- 

Subaru and Mitsukake eased open the door to Tomo's room. The illusionist looked over at them, his golden eyes soft and sad. 

Somewhat startled by the apparent change of additude, Mitsukake approached him, ready to change the bandages. As he knelt down, one of Tomo's hands moved, grabbing him weakly around the wrist. 

"Matte," he whispered. "I--I've been thinking, while I'm laying here. I--I want the fighting to stop." 

Shocked, Mitsukake stared at him. Only complete sincerity and an honest plea to be understood looked back. "When you go to retrieve the Shinzaho," Tomo continued, "Nakago will be after it as well. Please, let me go with you. He'll stop at nothing. Please, heal me. I can go to Yui, tell her the truth. I can stop this. Please." 

Uncertain, Mitsukake looked back at Subaru. She watched Tomo with unveiled suspision. He looked at her, and winced at the expression in her eyes. 

"Please," he begged. "I--My parents were killed in a war. I--I don't want anyone else to suffer that way. Please, let me stop this. Yui won't believe anyone else. Not even the Suzaku no miko." 

"How can we be sure?" Mitsukake asked with utter seriousness. "We can't trust you." 

Tomo shut his eyes, and the two watching were astonished to see a tear creeping down one cheek. "Nakago has been using all of us," he whispered. "She is my miko. I was born to protect her. Please, you must let me save her. You're my only hope." 

Loyalty to one's miko. That, Mitsukake and Subaru understood. Carefully extending his hand, Mitsukake summoned forth his powers. Tomo smiled at them, his face warm and full of light, his eyes shining. "Thank you," he whispered breathlessly. 

Swaying slightly, the healer leaned on the old woman's arm, letting her support him. Suddenly, running footsteps sounded in the hall. 

"Mitsukake!" Tasuki shouted as he threw open the door, completely ignoring the Seiryuu seishi on the floor. "Miaka's gone! She ran off to that old tower! There're monsters up there; she could be in trouble!" 

Shooting to his feet, Mitsukake followed the bandit out of the room, Subaru close behind them. 

No one saw Tomo's smile twist as he slowly climbed to his feet. He ran a careful hand over his almost completely-healed body. His ki was still markedly diminished, and his knees were a bit weak, but he didn't need much strength to escape. "Fools," he murmured. You forgot I'm an actor. Master of illusions of every kind. You'll regret ever healing me." 

He laughed softly, his eyes glittering harsh and metallic and cold. 

------------------------ 

I swear I didn't mean for the story to take this turn. Tomo made me do it! *cries* You'll see more justification for this, however, in the notes at the end of the story. 

Aeanagwen 


	5. Chapter 5

Spoilers for episode... *thinks* either 35 or 36. Well, I hope you guys who haven't been sending anything were just waiting for the end of the story. It's here now, so review! Oh, and there's a reference to a character in Tomo's past who I made up for the purposes of telling Tomo's story. If you've read Bleeding, you know him. If not, it's not too central, and I explain after the story, so don't worry about it. 

doushite=why 

----------------------------------------------------------- 

_He's here somewhere. I can feel him._

Walking at an easy pace down the halls of the monastery, Tomo felt more confident than he had in years. Even without his makeup. Before, he would have been sneaking through place in furtive secrecy, had he been forced into it out of costume. But now--he'd surpassed that. He didn't need it anymore. He had returned, and he was stronger than before. He knew it in his bones. 

_He's close. I sense him. Nakago..._ Nakago's ki was so close Tomo could almost taste it. That familiar-but-never-old depth of power, blinding blue in his mind. Tomo turned a corner, and saw, surreal, Nakago, turning, the same sense triggering his own awareness. His blond hair gleamed liquid gold in the coppery torchlight; his eyes widened as he saw Tomo. 

Walking up to him, the younger man bowed. "Nakago-sama," he said respectfully. "I have returned." 

He felt the blue eyes on him, and suppressed a shiver. How could the Suzaku seishi hope to turn him on that? He loved Nakago, that would never change. Just being near him was exquisite agony, the yearning was a kind of beauty. 

_Now and forever, Nakago-sama._

"Tomo," Nakago's deep voice said above him, and a thrill sparked through the illusionist as the older man said his name. 

"Hai." The murmured words left his lips as he looked up... 

And caught the ki blast full in the chest. 

It slammed him back into the wall, searing through stolen clothing and flesh, crackling blue lightening, and he cried out in pain. It vanished as suddenly as it had come, and Tomo slid to the floor, the wound in his chest burning deep and pouring blood. 

He stared up at Nakago, who looked back down at him out of the same emotionless azure eyes. "Dou-shi-te?" the younger man whispered in numb shock. "Naka-" 

The blond's expression never changed. "You're no longer needed," he said with utter calm. Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode away. 

_Nakago-sama..._

Wide, disbelieving eyes 

_Nakago-sama!_

The purest of agonies screaming inside his soul, wailing denial and protest 

**_Nakago!_**

A forlorn, anguished wail clawed at his throat; shuddering tears wracked him. He wanted to scream, but didn't have the breath. Instead, he tipped his head back against the wall, the salty tears streaming back into his hair as he closed his eyes and waited for the darkness to come   
and seal away his pain. A wandering, abandoned child, lost forever in the night. 

- 

Blood. Hot around his body, flowing, draining, ebbing... 

From the darkness... footsteps. Hurrying footsteps. They stopped. A gasp. Someone, beside him, kneeling down... Tomo cracked open his eyes, looking up, raw grief etched in his face. 

Yui. A cup of water in her hand. Her face pale, one hand reaching out hesitantly. 

He swallowed, and choked out her name, his voice cracked and filled with pain. 

"Yui--sa-ma?" 

He saw the recognition spasm across her young face. "Tomo?" she whispered, disbelieving. "What happened? Who did this to you? What happened?!" 

He stared into her eyes. 

_Tell her! You can ruin him!_

Wide 

_Tell her who killed you!_

Horrified 

_Tell her she wasn't raped!_

Vulnerable 

_Tell her he's used her!_

Dark, dark blue 

_Tell her!_

Not like Nakago's at all 

_Now_

"Suzaku" 

words whispered through whitened lips 

_and_

"shichiseishi" 

barely audible, carried on a breathless wisp of air 

_forever._

"Tamahome." 

the fates of two countries, inextricably sealed 

Yui went white. Her mouth moved soundlessly. Then, her hand clenched, her eyes narrowing. Bitter hatred and cold rage darkened her face. "Tomo," she whispered. "They'll pay for this. I promise you." 

He nodded painfully. _Yes... Make them pay... For taking away my dignity. For not just letting me die._

The last thing he felt was her hesitant embrace around his shoulders, pulling his head onto her shoulder, stroking his hair like the mother he'd never had. 

And then the blessed darkness. 

- 

Blue radiance. Encompassing, enveloping. 

"Chuin!" 

The voice calls out of his memory, light and free. 

He turns, looking. 

"Chuin!" 

An old man, blue eyes soft and fatherly. 

"Chuin! Come on, Chuin!" 

All of the pain and bitterness and anger and hate, falling away, slipping out of his memory like a dream. 

Hands on his shoulders, a warm hug. Lifted up, put down on strong shoulders. 

"Come on, Chuin. Let me teach you how to dance." 

Aged hands, uplifting, bearing him away 

Cool, sapphire silk, smooth, soothing 

The ringing of a young boy's laughter 

-----------------------------The End------------------------------- 

And now for the requisite explanations as to what the Hell I was thinking. 

Let me say right now that I didn't want to do that. Tomo is my baby, my favorite character in FY, and my favorite character in all of anime (and I watch a lot of anime). I think that, along with the rest of the Seiryuu, got horribly short-shafted in both the development and the fate departments. So why this ending? 

I _wanted _to give Tomo something better. I'd _planned _on his telling Yui the truth, or helping the Suzaku seishi. I will say that the best I'd planned was for him falling quietly out of the story, or at worst being killed defending/aiding the Suzaku. The reason for these endings is this:  
  
I get sick and tired of seeing AU stories that ask, "What if such and such defected to the other side?" that address the characters turning, what they do, how everything turns out happy for them and the Suzaku, and then COMPLETELY IGNOREthe fates of the OTHER Seiryuu seishi. I didn't want this to turn into some twenty chapter epic that, knowing me, I would be distracted from and never finish. All I wanted was a better ending for Tomo. 

But the fact of the matter is that, when I tried to write something closer to a happy ending--I stalled. My muses died, Tomo shut up, and the story refused to help. Simply put, the story would not let itself be written any other way. And in spite of how it ended, it still remains one of my favorite of my fanfictional works to date. 

As for Nakago and his actions... 

*spoilers for episode 35, 43-45 * 

Before I hear any complaints about "Why would Nakago kill Tomo?" let me explain my justification. Nakago is about to summon Seiryuu in like under fricken half an hour. Yui is in the process of getting the Shinzaho. Suzaku is going to be sealed. Any number of people could kill the Suzaku shichiseishi now. Tomo's elaborate illusions are no longer needed. The only Seiryuu seishi still around are Miboshi (going to die very shortly), Soi (he won't kill her; he loves her whether he'll admit it or not), and Suboshi. Yui would be upset if Suboshi died, I think. Tomo, however? Tomo is a very powerful, strong-willed individual. And Nakago, seeing Tomo act and speak with perfect confidence even though he no longer wears makeup, is very well aware of this. 

Also, I somehow don't think Tomo would necessarily approve of Nakago's ultimate plan. At any rate, you can't tell me that Nakago isn't capable of killing, because he kills Ashitare in cold blood, because Ashitare is no longer useful towards him. It's the same deal with Tomo. Also, Nakago knows damn good and well how Tomo feels about him. Take that statement as you will. Anyway, I don't want a bunch of OOC flames about how anyone's Nakkie-poo would never do   
such-and-such on this section of the story. Under the circumstances I wrote, I believe Nakago capable of killing Tomo. 

If you read, "Bleeding," you know who that guy is. It's the fanfictional old guy I put in Tomo's past. In my version (and in every story about Tomo's past that I've ever written), an old man adopted Chuin after his mother abandoned him. This old man (who I need a name for if anyone has any   
suggestions) was killed a few months later by some of the drunkards at the operahouse. 

I considered a few different versions of the closing scene. (No the ending itself didn't give me _enough _trouble without then presenting a half dozen miniature potential endings for me to sort through). One was a place at Seiryuu's side, but I somehow don't think that Tomo would be all that charitably inclined towards Seiryuu, especially not in this fic. I get the feeling that Tomo would know perfectly well that he wasn't offered a choice in his role as defender/protecter/legendary hero. There was no noble sacrifice involved. He never had anything to give. He was never offered the choice. And there's no triumph if there's no choice. I thought about Tomo just drifting off to "sleep," but discarded that as well. The above scene is what I finally decided on. Tell me what you thought, minna! 

Aeanagwen 


End file.
